Acknowledging And Embracing Our Differences

The other day Zack was at a store with Caleb and noticed a man looking at them with an expression on his face other than curiosity, excitement or passive acceptance. He looked like he could possibly say something racially insulting. Zack confessed that his first instinct, if someone were to throw a racial slur at him or Caleb, would be to deck the guy. ...and my first instinct would be to cheer him on. In the guy's defense, he never did say anything to Zack and he might possibly could not have cared less that Zack and Caleb were there. But the experience got Zack and me thinking about the situations (good and bad) that we, and mostly Caleb, will most definitely encounter throughout our life.

Though our first instinct will be to fight anyone who insults our family, we know better. Fighting ignorance with violence does nothing positive (aside from the immediate feeling of justice on our part). It's not going to change the ignorant and racist person's point of view, but most importantly it's not going to teach Caleb about tolerance, love, meekness and forgiveness - all qualities we hope to instill in him. How to do that is another post (or book) altogether. I think that's something we're all working on and, I don't know about you, but I think I'll be working on that into the eternities (But not too far into them. I'm a fast post-mortal learner, I'm sure of it.)

The point of his post is to recognize that, because of who Caleb is -because he is biracial and raised by white parents, we will always stand out. We will always be different.

When we go anywhere as a family, we are not passively accepted; meaning people don't gloss over us when they look at us. You know we all do that when we're out and about. We see people but we don't really look at them until something makes them different from the norm. And, though the number of trans-racial families is growing, it is not the norm.

So people look at us. They remember us.

When they see us they automatically think something about us. Whether it be of happiness, surprise, or anger, the thought will be there. I am the same way. When I see a black child walking through the store my first thought is surprise because they are not the norm around here. I'm okay with it, I have a black son for crying out loud, but it still makes me pause.

The reality for Caleb is, whether he likes it or not, people are going to notice him and have thoughts about him wherever he goes. He cannot fly under the radar here. People will remember him at school, the store, the library, the park, everywhere. So far, the response he gets from almost everyone is happiness. They love him. They love his deep brown eyes, his long eye-lashes, and especially his cheeks. They comment on how cute he is. They talk to him and try to win one of his smiles. In his little world, everyone adores him. He doesn't know they see him as different. He just knows he is loved.

I wish it could be that way forever, but it won't. Someday he will realize that some of the extra attention he gets (not ALL of it) is because he is different. He might resent it or he might milk it for all it's worth. Or he might do a combination of the two. Either way, he will know he is different.

Our job, as his parents, is to teach him that being different is okay, even if it is, well, different.

To help Caleb learn to be okay with our differences, especially racial differences, we don't avoid using the words "black" and "white". He is black. We are white. The terms obviously don't indicate what our true skin color is, otherwise he'd be brownish and we'd be pinkish, but they represent our races, nonetheless. If Caleb grew up in a household where his family was uncomfortable using the word "black" he'd have to assume that it wasn't said because it was bad. I mean, why else would we avoid the difference that is most obvious to him unless it was a bad thing? I also read this post ,written by a man who is biracial and raised by white parents, and it went right along with my feelings about the issue.

It's okay that Caleb has black curly hair and we have straight hair. It's okay that his eyes are dark brown and ours are blue/green. I don't point that out to him all the time, but I do acknowledge it.

We have a book at home titled "We're Different, We're the Same" by Sesame Street.

It talks about how our noses, eyes, hair, skin, feelings etc. are different because they look different, but they are the same because they all do the same things for us. Caleb LOVES it. (That's right, he's not even 10 months old and he'll sit with me while I read something besides a board book. The kid's amazing!) And I love it because it very simply shows him that though we may look different, we're all the same inside. (Kumbaya, I know.)

I don't want you to think we're going to over-kill the differences thing. It's possible to do that. None of us wants to be identified by our differences only. Caleb won't want to be known as the "black kid" at school all the time. Or the black grandchild or cousin. He'll want to be known simply as Caleb.

His differences do not define who he is, but they are a part of him and my greatest desire is for him to be proud of who he is. All of him.

I could write on and on about how I'm trying to help Caleb grow up to be proud of his race, or how to help him navigate as a minority (or lead him to people who can because *ahem* I'm not qualified), or how to help him understand his past and see how that can shape his future, but that would make this post insufferably long and it would make me type for hours and hours because that is a huge, life-long issue. We're taking this one day at a time. And today, we're reading a book about what makes us different and the same and all-together wonderful.